The Nosey Silence
By Jon Pelletier
I heard myself speak to other today, just listened. It was a very off-putting experience. There was an eerie silence from me and I nervously judged myself. I can be very critical of myself. Things can be true from both directions. That is why the Felter and the Mage were such good friends. It is why the chambers of Distinct Reasoning were made from wages cut by the queen while she allowed the forgiving government to shut down. The stable men who wished to stand up for the Nervous Cloaks laughed because there was nothing opposing them. Ron Swanson was happy as well, with no government – the settlement was based on sheltered fates. He could walk away now and be happy.
There was an unsettling cause that desired to give up. There was a weapon of deceit, made with Detroit in the Shadow of St. Bartholomew. It was a sober weapon, like that which tore through the love within the savage dates. There was a morning within the memory of a girlfriend, and some good times though which they were able to stay together. They want the other way, to be torn asunder forever. There is some light in that. Although, one can’t be stuck – they must keep moving forever, as change is inevitable. I don’t want to think that I will not forever be with her, but at the very least one of us is going to die. There is a tome dedicated to her, from which I will describe the last ones.
I missed a meeting because of E. Erikson but I had a macaroon so it was worth it. The chaotic part is that we need to write. We need to make music. It is the only way to fight these demons of my mind. The unsettled dream I have is different. They are but sketched marks, robots and silent people. I must share with the little highs, the heads of which are within me keeping these silent places that make their spot tolerable. He is I, and that makes me want to smoke. This is the shame, the shape of these ropes. I cannot be compelled to look. That is the turbulent chaos in this.